


Ink Veiled Sins

by LittleTayy



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Gen, team betrayal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-20 11:16:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11919765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleTayy/pseuds/LittleTayy
Summary: Emily had been marked by Ian Doyle a long time ago. Now, her sins were catching up to her. // A reimagining of the 'Lauren' arc from Season 6.





	1. i.

**i.**

**ever since my baby went away, it's been the blackest day**

* * *

 

It started with a simple purple freesia.

A pure white box, long and wrapped with a ribbon around it had been placed against her front door. The sight had confused her at first, as she’d made her way down the hallway of her condo complex. Packages didn’t usually come directly to tenants doors but this had and it unnerved her. Emily could sense there was something about the box as it rested there, carefully picking it up cautious of what could be inside it.

Giving it a gentle little shake, she barely heard anything from inside it, just some faint rustling. It seemed innocent enough and as she made her way inside her condo she was fairly confident that it wouldn’t blow up in her hands. At least she was hoping it wouldn’t. Still, she set her things down quickly, placing the box down on her sideboard as she slowly pulled the lid up and off of the box, breath caught as she anticipated what could be inside.

Her eyes widened slightly, mouth parting a little to exhale silently. A single purple freesia was placed delicately inside, surrounded by tissue paper, to protect it in some form. The sight of it had her mind racing, they were her favorite flower but no one could’ve known that…at least not anyone from her current life could’ve known that. Emily glanced around frantically, looking over the box to see if there was some kind of note to go with the flower. There wasn’t.

After several moments of looking she had to admit to herself that there wasn’t anything else with the flower that she could rely on to tell her who sent it. Not that she needed to be told whom the flower was from; she knew, already, her body tingling with the thought. She had just wanted some kind of confirmation on the fact, even if she didn’t need it. Not at the moment at least.

With slow, delicate movements, ones usually unlike her normal self, she picked the flower up bringing it up to her nose. She sniffed at the flower; eyes closing for a moment, letting it take her back to a place she hadn’t thought about in over 5 years. A Tuscan villa, a dangerous man and a gorgeous little boy and a time that changed her life forever.

It was sign. Of that she had no doubt.

As far as she knew though, he was still stuck in a North Korean prison but…if he was finally making contact with her after all this time. Maybe he wasn’t. It’d explain the multiple calls she’d received from Clyde and from Sean. If he’d escaped, which she was almost certain he had now, then they’d want to warn her – even though her cover had essentially been killed years ago. In their minds there’d be no reason for Ian to be looking for her, not when _Lauren Reynolds was dead_.

What they didn’t know though was that Lauren Reynolds had barely ever existed with Ian Doyle. She’d been playing a dangerous game and one that hadn’t quite worked out the way she wanted it too. By the end of it, she’d been pulled out without her knowledge; apparently it’d started to become apparent she was compromised and if her team had only waited a few more weeks, she’d have disappeared completely.

Still holding the flower, Emily sighed as she moved through her apartment, looking for a vase to put the single flower in. She rested it on her kitchen bench, searching through her cupboards before finally finding something to put it on and filling it halfway with water. Carefully she picked the flower up again, slowly dropping it into the vase, watching it eagerly settle in the long glass container.

Emily looked at it curiously on the bench, considering leaving it there for a moment before biting her lip. A thought occurred to her that it didn’t belong on the bench and she picked it up gently, holding it steady as she made her way to her bedroom, placing it on her bedside table. It seemed rather more intimate then anything else in her apartment; all cold and well organized, a sign she was rarely home enough to pay much attention to making the condo seem like a home. With a satisfied smile, she leaned in again, smelling it one more time before exiting her room.

 

**i.**

* * *

 

 

The flowers came every few days from then on, just as they were starting to wilt and for Emily it was enough to know that Ian was watching her, or at least having her watched. She had always thought the idea of being watched would be disconcerting but when she knew it was Ian, it truly wasn’t at all. In fact, she felt a sense of safety in the idea that he was watching over her; like some sort of dangerous guardian angel.

With the flowers still came the calls from both her former colleagues and eventually she couldn’t put off answering either of them. She felt bad at the relief she felt when she organized to meet Sean instead of Clyde; the Englishman could always read her better then their team leader and for this, she’d need to play on the fact that Sean just couldn’t read her as well.

It was why, walking into Murphy’s Bar, a place on the outskirts of DC but still fairly popular, Emily did her best to look confused and concerned. She spotted the other man easily, despite how long it’d been since they’d last seen each other and made her way towards the booth he was sitting in; by the back and away from the crowd of people. Emily wasn’t surprised by his choice at all.

“Emily,” he greeted, his accent still strong as he looked up at her, face heavy with age and stress.

“Sean,” she breathes as she slides into the booth, not even taking off her jacket as she looks at him seriously. “You know I’m not part of the CIA anymore,” she told him, an eyebrow quirking upwards; head tilting, as she looked him over.

“I know. That’s not why I’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” he told her gruffly. “Doyle’s escaped,” he told her almost solemnly.

Emily tried not to let any emotions show, schooling her features into a neutral look. She knew already, of course, that Doyle had escaped – the flowers wouldn’t be being sent if he were still in prison. But, Sean couldn’t know that; couldn’t know Doyle had been contacting her in any way, even as obscure as sending flowers was.

“How…long ago?” She asked after a moment, tongue swiping along her bottom lip as she deliberately gave the impression of being unsettled. If things were to work out and she was going to keep people unsuspicious, she had to play her part.

“About 3 weeks. If he is out, then the teams in danger,” he told her, the worry clear and evident in his voice and across his face. He must have seen the way her brow creased momentarily because he started speaking again. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, he has no clue who you are remember? As far as he knows, Lauren Reynolds is dead. Just, be careful Emily, just in case. Okay?”

Emily bit her lip, glancing away as she nodded slightly before looking back at him with concern. “How did he even get out?” She asked, voice dropping a little, shifting in her seat. “He should’ve been…in there for _life_ ,” she stressed the words, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed as she maintained the concerned demeanor.

“I know, but we always knew Doyle was smart. Guess he’s still got people loyal to him,” Sean scoffed, shaking his head as he finished the drink that’d been sitting untouched in front of him since Emily had sat down.

“I guess he does,” she murmured, biting her lip for a moment again. “I need to go but, keep me informed Sean. I…don’t want any surprises,” she told him, nodding her head insistently.

“I’ll try. Just be careful, Emily. We don’t know what he’ll do next,” Sean told her as she slid out of the booth, standing easily.

“Alright. Bye Sean,” Emily told him, giving him a quick little smile as she headed for the exit of the little bar.

She didn’t look back as she walked away, hands shoving into the pockets of her coat, letting Sean’s words mull over in her mind. He was clearly worried, and Emily knew he should be, there was no way Ian was going to escape and just let the people behind it off without any retribution. It wasn’t his way. Theoretically, she was safe, on all fronts; Ian knew her, knew the real her and even if he didn’t, her cover of Lauren Reynolds was dead. There was no way he could know she was Lauren if she hadn’t already told him.

Slipping into her car, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. Closing the door, she shifted in her seat to get her phone out of her pocket, eyebrows furrowed as she wondered who or _what_ it could be. The message that popped up on the screen made her smile, she couldn’t help the automatic reaction, though she knew she should. ‘ ** _See you soon, love.’_** Sent by an unknown sender but Emily didn’t need to have a name to know who it was; and she certainly _hoped_ she would.


	2. ii.

**ii.**

**let me put on a show for you**

* * *

 

It was clear as day that it was dangerous doing this; meeting out in the open where anyone could see them just spelled trouble. But it was all part of the plan, all a way to make it seem like Ian had her backed into a corner. She wasn’t certain her old Interpol team was running surveillance just yet but in case they were, she and Ian had kept up the cold, murderous façade.

In reality though, seeing him again after seven years of separation had her heart beating wildly. His simple touch on her shoulder blade sent shivers running down her spine, causing her to bite her lip to keep in a sigh. Her head tilted and her breath caught as she heard his voice, _finally_. His Irish lilt almost had her resolve crumbling but a look up into his icy blue eyes had her remembering their silent plan.

“Hello Lauren,” Ian stated coldly, taking his seat across from her, watching her curiously. “Or should I say Emily? That is who you really are, isn’t it? The woman that almost took me down,” he continued on, playing their sick little game with perfect ease.

“I’m not here to play games Doyle. I’m just here as a warning. If you come after my team, you’ll regret it. You don’t know what I’m capable of,” she threatened, voice stoic, though Ian could see the little glisten in her eyes, betraying the truth.

Ian chuckled, shaking his head at the woman’s words. He was sure that if anyone else had been on the receiving end of that little speech, she’d be deadly serious. But this was all for show and they both knew it.

“Is that a promise, love?” He teased, smirking at her as he slowly stood from his chair. “I’ll see you soon Emily,” he told her, the wicked smirk on his lips belying the fact his words were not at all innocent. Not that anyone would think they were any way.

His words had the desired effect though of sending a shiver down Emily’s spine, disguised as disgust but was really excitement. He turned then, walking off into the shadows and disappearing. If Emily had been a smart agent, she’d have never let him walk off but Emily wasn’t, not when it came to Ian Doyle. In fact, she’d never been a smart agent when it came to the man.

She sat there still for another five minutes, trying to keep her thoughts calm and collected. Slowly, she pushed up and out of her seat, fitting her gun back into its holster; she didn’t even known why she’d taken it out to begin with. She wouldn’t have used it on Ian, she knew that and so did Ian.

Still, there had been some parts of her that sensed danger in the meeting and she’d taken it out as a precaution. Making her way to her car she was glad she’d had no use for it; she wasn’t exactly prepared to explain a shooting tonight. She glanced around her surroundings eagerly, a faint trace of paranoia clouding her features. There was so much at stake here; she couldn’t afford to slip up in any way.

It took longer than usually for her to get back to her condo, the paranoid part of her had insisted on taking the long way home. Stepping off the elevator onto her floor had her easing up a little, suddenly feeling far more comfortable as she made her way into her apartment.

“You took your time love,” a voice rasped from the shadows by her bedroom door.

The voice startled Emily, her hand automatically reaching for her side where her gun was holstered. It took her a moment to recognize his voice but when she did, she relaxed, smiling instead as she dropped her bags by the entrance of her apartment.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people. Especially women with guns,” she teased, making her way over to her bedroom door, finally seeing the outline of the Irishman.

Ian however, simply chuckled. He wasn’t at all concerned with being shot by Emily, even by accident. “Now, darlin’,” he drawled, taking a few steps forward to meet Emily. “I know you wouldn’t shoot me. You’re far too good at handling guns to let it accidentally go off,” he told her confidently, his blue eyes meeting hers, a quirk of a smile on his features.

Emily felt like she was entranced as she listened to his reasoning, tongue flicking out to wet her lips as her eyes met his. “You’re right, I have far too much experience to let that happen,” she replied, eyes wide and bright. It had been far too long since they’d properly talked, since they’d been physically near each other.

Her eyes were glued to his and god help her, she just couldn’t keep up the pretence. The man she loved was right there in front of her after seven years of being apart and she just couldn’t bring herself to not touch him anymore.

Her body seemed to move of it’s own accord, stepping into Ian’s space, pressing against him almost desperately as her lips reached up to capture his in a searing kiss. Their bodies melted into each other’s, hands groping and grabbing eagerly. Ian was the first to pull away, lips glistening as he gazed down at Emily, eyes dark with lust.

“I’ve waited to do that for years,” he growled, hand moving up to her collarbone and grasping at her neck almost dangerously. “I’ve missed you, Emily,” he huffed out, before pulling her into another heated kiss.

Emily returned it easily, all frenzied tongue and teeth as she moaned keenly into the kiss. Her hands were wrapped around the lapel of his coat, hastily pushing it apart and off his shoulders. A part of her told her she should stop, that this wasn’t right but she ignored the words. She needed to feel Ian, needed to have contact with his skin after so long.

It had been seven long years and nothing was going to stop her now. It seemed like Ian too couldn’t wait either. Emily sent up a silent prayer, thanking whatever god was listening that she’d been reunited with the man she loved.

Her hands clasped at the cloth against his shoulders eagerly, keeping him pulled close against her as they continued to kiss. His own hands clutched at her body, one hand slipping around and down to grope at her ass eagerly, pulling her hips against his hard as the other tightened the slightest around her neck. Emily knew he could easily choke her like this, that his hand could put pressure against her neck and stop the airflow but despite who he was, she trusted him. In fact, the pressure around her throat actually had her arousal growing.

“Not…right here,” Emily panted out, pulling away from the heated kisses. Ian didn’t answer and Emily didn’t need him to as she pulled him into her room, hands pulling at his shirt as she did so. His hand had dropped from her neck, instead it was now focused on cupping a breast, squeezing gently; his other hand moving up from her ass to creep up and under the blouse she was wearing, touching the bare skin of her back.

His shirt came off easily, Emily tossing it to the floor without care. She stood back, their eyes connecting as she smirked, her hands moving to the buttons of her own shirt, fingers deftly unbuttoning the material as she slipped it over and off her shoulders. She watched as Ian’s eyes raked over her bare skin, the desire barely contained in his now dark eyes and she smirked, hands moving down to the button and zipper of her slacks.

Emily didn’t have time to undo them however when Ian’s hands grabbed her roughly, spinning her around and pulling her hard against his chest. His left hand slipped from her arm to hold her tight around her waist, keeping her where she was as the other curved upwards to wrap around her neck lightly. “You look even better then I remember, love,” he growled lowly into her ear, sending an excited shiver up Emily’s spine, pressing her ass against him more.

“Shut up,” she ground out, tongue licking over her lips as Ian nipped and kissed along her neck and jaw, her chest rising and lowering the more turned on she became.

Ian’s hand tightened over her throat, the other moving down and over her body easily, pushing her slacks off her hips, letting her wiggle out of them. His palm spread across her lower abdomen, fingertips teasing the hem of her underwear but never dipping under as he pressed himself against her, fingers digging into her skin almost harshly. He continued the tease for several moments before he slowly slid his hand down further, fingertips dipping just under her underwear before a moved his hand, cupping her through the lace material.

“Stop teasing,” Emily breathed, her chest heaving as her arousal grew. “Oh my God,” she groaned. It seemed like all Ian wanted to do was play with her, and not in a way she preferred right now. One hand clutched at his forearm, the one surrounding her throat as the other gripped his large, strong hand and moved it exactly to where she wanted it.

“ _Dites-moi ce que vous voulez que je fasse, l’amour_ ,” he whispered into her ear, voice deep and gravelly, nipping at her earlobe playfully.

Emily moaned at the words, eyes closed and head falling back against him, letting him do as he pleased. He was finally touching her, not exactly the way she wanted but it was enough friction to keep her satisfied for the moment.

“ _Dis moi, Emily_ ,” Ian growled again, his hands possessive on her skin.

“ _Je veux tu que me baises. S’il vous plait?_ ” Emily whimpered, hips grinding down against his hand, trying her best to have him bring her as much pleasure as she could.

Ian chuckled against her ear, his free hand moving against her underwear, pushing them down roughly. As soon as she felt his hands moving along her thighs, she helped him to push her underwear down and off her legs, shimmying out of them and kicking them somewhere into the room. She really didn’t care at this point about anything but Ian and where his hands and lips were touching her skin.

“I need you, please,” she whimpered breathlessly into the room, the only other sounds coming from their heavy breathing.

At her words, Ian grinned, hands moving to push her roughly against the bed, not caring too much to be particularly careful. She gasped as she caught herself on her bed, bent over and resting on her forearms, just how she knew Ian would like her. It took only a moment then before a gasp left her as she felt Ian finally push into her, a hand tight on her hip as the other grasp at her hair, tangling and holding the dark locks tightly. 

“Fuck, _mo grá_ ,” he growled, slowly moving his hips to thrust into her deeply, savoring every moment of the feeling. After all, it had been seven long years since they’d been together, especially in this way. It wasn’t all Ian had missed, he’d missed absolutely everything about Emily but a physical connection, especially while stuck in a North Korean prison, had him craving her like never before.

He fucked her like that for several minutes, hard and slow as Emily whimpered into her bedspread. As good as it felt though, Emily wanted to see Ian, wanted her eyes connected with is when she finally came. With a tug of his hand on her hip, she pulled away from him, groaning as he slipped from her as she turned to lie on her back. “Come here,” she breathed, reaching for his hand and pulling him down onto the bed and atop of her.

Ian grinned at her actions, head dipping down to kiss her heatedly as he settled on his knees between her open legs. His hands moved up over her torso, touching her skin almost reverently before they slid along her arms and his hands gripped her wrists. He held them tightly, pushing her arms up and above her head as he thrust into her once again, groaning into their kiss.

Emily’s legs wrapped around his hips, tugging him closer. His thrusts became faster and Emily’s hips rocked up eagerly, meeting him thrust for thrust. She leant up, catching his lips in an eager hungry kiss as she felt the pleasure in her body growing, not surprised at all how quickly her pleasure grew. After all, nobody had ever been able to fuck her like Ian had; it was like their bodies were simply a perfect fit, no one else could compare.

It didn’t take long before Emily felt the tell tale signs of her orgasm, hips moving faster even as her body started to tense. Pleasure washed over her quickly, leaving her a whimpering, trembling mess, breathing out Ian’s name as he continued to pump into her. Seeing Emily’s orgasm and feeling her body tremble with pleasure sent him over the edge with three sharp, short thrusts; biting down against her neck with a groan as he emptied himself inside her.

Several long moments passed as they both took a breath, just enjoying being tangled up together. Ian gave her a soft, sweet kiss before shifting off of her and settling on his side beside her, hands still moving over her body gently. He took his time looking over her, eyes taking in every bit of her body he could, noting the minute changes and the things that stayed the same. A smirk spread across his face as his hand travelled down over her stomach, fingers resting low on her stomach tracing over the intricate inked clover on her hip and the faint stretch marks.

“When’d you get this love?” Ian asked, voice low and gravelly, a finger tracing the design that was identical the one on his wrist.

“Three weeks after the assignment ended,” she told him slowly, shifting up a little to look down at the tattoo on her skin.

“I love you Emily,” Ian told her softly, a hand coming up to cup her cheek gently and pull her into a soft kiss.

Emily whispered back against his lips, “I love you too, Ian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably be a little bit of a disjointed fic in regards to chapters; as in, the chapters most likely aren't always going to flow into each other. Not like my other fics usually do at least. So, I hope that bothers no one. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Please read and review! :) LT.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is new. It's been a long time since I've written Criminal Minds fanfiction but I've been getting into the show again lately. I've always loved Emily and her whole Lauren arc was one of the best, I thought. I always felt like she really did love Ian, so this is my take on that.
> 
> I've love to know any criticism or feedback you'd like to share. I hope you've enjoyed, please review! :) LT.


End file.
